


Fast in My Car

by exybee



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exybee/pseuds/exybee
Summary: It's four in the morning and Andrew just wants to knowhow the hellhe ended up in the middle of a high-speed police chase with a blue-eyed heartthrob in his passenger seat.AKA: The Car Thief AU where Neil's not very good at stealing cars, but he's doing a bang up job of stealing Andrew's heart.





	1. A couple rebel top gun pilots, flying with nowhere to be.

**Author's Note:**

> (Previously known as We’re Driving Fast in (Your) Car) 
> 
> WARNINGS for: Brief and vague mentions of past abuse.  
> short description of self harm in the form of brief asphyxiation.
> 
> Find me @exybee.tumblr.com
> 
> Happy Reading!

 

 

 

> _We had to learn how to deal_  
>  _And when we spotted a second chance_  
>  _We had to learn how to steal_  
>    
>  _Hollowed out and filled up with hate_  
>  _All we want is you to give us a break_

\- Paramore, Fast In My Car

* * *

Andrew’s eyes were tired, unfocused as he searched the vacant parking lot for any sign of his pesky cousin. Remnants of his nightmare oozed from the deep gashes in his mind, slow and thick like blood.

It was four in the morning, and Andrew had spent the last twenty minutes sitting outside of a deserted Wal-Mart because apparently, _it takes over twenty minutes for a twenty-three-year old man to buy coffee filters._

Andrew fished out his phone and scrolled until his cousin’s name appeared. He tapped out _five_ before tossing it into the cup holder.

Nicky had exactly five minutes before Andrew would drag him out by his hair.

Nicky needed a babysitter for everything, and Andrew wasn’t sure why he thought this time would be any different. Maybe it had something to do with the way his mouth, still stiff with terror, curled into a snarl when Nicky asked if he wanted to come in.

Andrew leaned over the console and yanked open the glove box for his emergency cigarettes. He had a full carton on his nightstand, but he hadn’t anticipated spending half the night in a dimly lit parking lot. Although to be fair, he hadn’t anticipated waking in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat with a half-swallowed cry lodged in his throat either.

That was a lie. Andrew, with his self-destructive tendencies, made it his personal mission to _tell the truth and nothing but the truth, so help him god_ , but sometimes even he slipped up.

The truth was brutal, vicious even—able to carve into a person and cause them more suffering than any lie ever could.

Andrew took a pack from the carton and, along with his unnecessary thoughts, shoved them back into the glove compartment. The radio hummed low in the background. Andrew didn’t have the energy to switch it off. He could only scowl at the offending box.

He lit a cigarette and shivered as he took a slow drag, holding the smoke in his lungs until they screamed, until its bitter warmth spread through his chest and tiny black dots were splattered across his vision.

Gasping, Andrew cracked his door open and flicked the useless stick to the ground.

Apparently, casual asphyxiation was a hard feat to pull off.

Andrew flexed his fingers. Numb, though not from the cold. He couldn't remember a time when they weren’t.

Andrew’s head shot up as the harsh sound of sirens flooded the parking lot. Carefully, he shut his door and his eyes followed the trail of blue and red. Two cop cars cut through before speeding back onto the road. He ignored the way his shoulders relaxed as the bright lights faded into the night.

His sigh of relief was cut short as the streetlights flickered above him; he could’ve _sworn_ a shadow had just crossed the front of his car.

Fuck that. Andrew fumbled around the steering wheel until his fingers found his key and twisted it in the ignition. Just as the engine snarled to life, a hand struck his passenger window.

Andrew’s reflexes were quick as he reached for his knives, his mind already assessing the situation, his hands ready to kill. A chill shot up his spine as he ran his fingers over the ridges of the blade. His heart thudded in his throat, but the knife was unwavering in his grip.

In the dim light, Andrew could just make out the outline of the cloaked figure; short, slim, and fast. Scrambling to get underneath the parking lot light, he pulled his hoodie away from his face and motioned for Andrew to roll his window down.

Shoving his knives into his right hand, Andrew rolled his window down just far enough to stick his middle finger through the crack.

“Really?” The boy asked.

“Go away before I run you over.” 

“I need your help.” 

Andrew raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and he pressed the window switch until it was down halfway.

Mistaking Andrew’s action for sympathy, the boy continued. “I really need someone to take me home.” He dug through his pockets, pulling them out to show that they were empty. “I’m clean. I don’t have anything on me.”

The boy’s words echoed in the empty parking lot, fading. But Andrew’s ears were still ringing.

“That’s even worse.” Andrew disregarded the weight of that personal truth on his tongue. “Let me guess.” He pointed in the general direction the cop cars had gone. “Friends of yours?”

“Hardly,” the boy snorted.

Just as Andrew opened his mouth to reply, a siren wailed in the distance, closer than before.

The boy swore and whipped his head around before turning back to face Andrew’s car. “Please?”

The ache in Andrew’s knuckles flared as he tightened his grip. “I don’t like that word.”

“Okay, I won’t say it again. Now, will you let me in?”

“No.”

“But-”

“If they are after you, I’m sure it’s for a _reason.”_  Andrew didn’t believe that for a second, but that wasn’t the _point_.

Even through the windshield, Andrew could feel the weight of the boy’s steely gaze. “If you’re anything like me, then you know that’s not true.”

Andrew’s tongue was heavy in his mouth, and his knives felt like boulders in his hand. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Right.” The boy shifted from one foot to the other, weighing his other options. The sirens were getting closer, and he was running out of time. “What can I give you in exch-”

Andrew leveled the boy with a hard look as his fingers found the unlock button.

The click of the car echoed throughout the parking lot, but the boy stayed still, unblinking.

Andrew made to lock the car once more when the boy jumped up and yanked the door open, sliding into the passenger seat.

This boy set off alarms in Andrew’s head, loud and clear and _persistent,_  but not for the reasons he’d expected, the reasons he’d been _used to_.

Andrew clicked on the car light to see his _guest_ more clearly.

Fuck.

Even in the shitty light, Andrew could see he was attractive as hell.

_Fuck._

“Are you gonna go?” 

Andrew raised a lone brow and fucking hoped his face passed for impassive.

The boy flailed his arm, aggravated. “Drive!”

Andrew turned in his seat. “I’m going to ask you three questions. If you lie to me, I will flag those pigs down and hand them your pathetic ass.”

“Are you-” The boy laughed, exasperated. “Are you serious?”

Andrew flashed his knives in the light. “Deadly.”

The boy glanced down to Andrew’s hand before leveling Andrew with an unimpressed look.

Andrew would be lying if he said he weren’t a little disappointed.

“Why are they after you?”

“I’m a car thief.”

“Obviously not a good one.” Fuck, was Andrew _flirting_?

That startled a laugh out of the blue-eyed stranger. “How do you figure?”

“Well, for starters, you got _caught,”_ Andrew snarled the last part, though he was more annoyed with himself than anything. “and if you hadn’t noticed, you’re sitting in a-”

“very nice car,” the boy finished with a smirk. “Yes, I noticed. And if the situation were different-”

Andrew flashed his knives again.

“I steal expensive cars from rich people, because they’re the ones who can afford it, and I sell them.” The boy’s tone was matter-of-fact, as if he were confessing to littering in a public park and not grand theft auto.

“So what, you’re some kind of Robin Hood? Steal from the rich and give back to the poor?” Andrew said bitterly. Oh, how he hated the heroic types.

“Sure,” he said with a grin. “if ‘the poor’ is my bank account.”

Andrew cocked his head to the side, but the flash of lights in his rear-view mirror stopped him.

“Fuck,” the boy groaned, and looked over at him as if Andrew were his only option, and fuck if that didn’t make Andrew want to punch him.

“You still owe me two more questions,” Andrew spat, before he shifted the gear into drive and slammed his foot on the gas pedal.


	2. Don't know you super well, but I think that you might be the same as me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... wildly overdue.
> 
> (I rewrote this 12 times over the course of 4 months) 
> 
> Enjoy! (Feedback is... wildly encouraged!)

Neil’s protests died in his throat as the car sped out of the parking lot, leaving behind a trail of exhaust—and what was left of his better judgment. His fingers dug into the expensive leather upholstery as they weaved dangerously between scattered cars, his breath quickening with every jerk of the wheel.

“Jesus fuck,” Neil hissed, finding his voice. He scanned the street for traffic signs, but the world around him was reduced to bright smears of red and blue. “Slow down and take the 126, we’ll be able to—”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Neil whirled to face the driver, eyes narrowed. “I was just saying—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you were saying. I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you stupid?” Neil growled. “You can’t—”

“Watch me,” the driver said, yanking the wheel left, hard.

Neil’s head smashed against the window as they spun around, fishtailing as they made a violent U-turn. Steadying the car, the driver slammed on the gas. Neil’s hands shot out, bracing himself against the console and the door.

“I asked you to help me, not get me killed.” Neil’s fingers shook as he adjusted his seatbelt.

“Same difference.”

Neil’s eyebrows shot up, annoyed. “Are you normally this obnoxious? Cause I can’t even imagine what you’re like during business hours.”

The driver’s turned to face Neil, eyes blank as his left hand moved to unlock the door. “You can walk home.”

Neil broke the glare, the flicker of artificial lights in the boy’s pale hair hijacking his attention.

“I’m so fucked,” Neil said, twisting in his seat to get a better look; the sudden bite of his seatbelt against his throat made him jerk his head around. His eyes settled on the boy, stoic and dangerous in the driver’s seat.

“What?” Neil snarled, rubbing the spot where the edge had caught his neck. He didn’t like being touched.

“Are you stupid?” the boy said, mocking Neil’s words. “Do you want to get caught?”

Neil scoffed. “Oh, fuck you.”

“Delinquency 101,” the boy lifted a condescending finger—Neil wasn’t even sure that was _possible_ — before continuing. “Don’t look back at the people who are chasing you, dumbass.”

“I didn’t know there was a handbook on how to be a criminal,” Neil said hotly, though he made a mental note to google it later.

“If there was I’d throw it at your head.” And with that, the boy swerved onto the highway.

Flushed with adrenaline, Neil’s thoughts raced a hundred miles a minute, and he wasn’t far behind, with their vehicle approaching 95 and steadily rising. He felt a wave of anxiety crash over him, scattering his thoughts and rendering him mute.

Rationally, Neil knew that getting caught stealing a car—and then subsequently becoming the object of a police chase—was probably on the list of things not to do that Dan recited to him more days than not. Getting killed in a police chase, because he decided to jump in the car with a blond maniac, was probably higher up on Dan’s list.

Probably. His sister was going to kill him.

“What’s your name?” A voice bit out.

Neil looked up and met dark eyes that flickered like flames in the streetlight. 

Neil’s stomach took a dip.

“Neil,” he said carefully. “Yours?”

“Andrew,” the boy mumbled.

“So Andrew,” Neil waved a hand. “Now that we’ve covered formalities, may I ask why you were sitting in a Walmart parking lot at four in the morning?”

“You may not.”

“Fair enough,” Neil said, his gaze fixed on Andrew. His posture was rigid, his hands stiff on the steering wheel. He couldn’t have been much older than Neil.

But before Neil could satiate his curiosity, Andrew suddenly veered onto the highway exit.

The police lights dimmed as Andrew widened the distance. Neil inhaled deeply. He hadn’t taken a full breath since he’d gotten into the car.

“Do not move,” Andrew said, before turning off the headlights. They drove in complete silence, the darkness holding an inky grip on Neil’s tongue.

The tires squealed, hot against the asphalt as Andrew took a sharp right, narrowly missing a group of teens crossing the street.

Neil watched, breathless, as three squad cars sped off onto the road and away from them.

Shifting back in his seat, Neil was instantly met with the glow of golden arches.

“What the fuck?” Neil shouted.

Andrew tuned him out and pulled into the drive-thru. Neil was greeted by the harsh smell of burnt grease and artificial syrups.

“I went to Walmart for my coffee, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get it because you’re shit at what you do,” Andrew said, before ordering two hash browns and a black coffee.

Neil rolled his eyes and sighed. Even this was better than facing Dan’s wrath.

The cashier handed Andrew a grease-stained bag, which Andrew promptly threw into Neil’s lap, and asked if they needed anything else. Andrew ignored the man—Neil was beginning to sense a pattern—and rolled up his window. He pulled into a parking spot, grabbed his bag and motioned towards the glove compartment. Neil raised a challenging brow, the corners of his mouth pulling upwards. Andrew’s expression dulled.

Relenting, he pulled it open, finding a couple of napkins and a carton of cigarettes. Neil, too stubborn to ask, assumed Andrew meant the latter and went to grab it before a sudden thought made him pause.

He searched the dashboard for a lighter, disregarding Andrew’s annoyed huff. Finding one, Neil plucked a cigarette out and lit it, eyeing Andrew as he took a lazy drag, the smoke stale on his tongue.

Andrew snarled and snatched it from his mouth, smoke and laughter spilling from Neil’s lips.  

They both jumped as something buzzed in the cup holder. Andrew flicked it a glance but made no move to answer it.

“You gonna get that?” Neil asked anyway. He didn’t think about the heavy weight of his own phone in his back pocket.

Andrew ignored him in favor of biting into a greasy hash brown.

Neil tried again. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say it’s related to your being in a Walmart parking lot in the middle of the night.”

“My cousin,” Andrew yielded, “should’ve known better.” He crumpled up his wrapper and tossed it into the bag.

Neil nodded and regarded the blond. With his coffee in one hand and his cigarette in the other, Neil couldn’t help but say, “Well aren’t you a walking hipster stereotype.”

Andrew flicked him off around his cardboard cup. “Where to? So I can dump your ass.”

Neil squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten. He wasn’t ready to call Dan yet.

“Westborough,” Neil said, looking down at his hands, gritty from a night’s work.

“The high school? Are you homeless?”

“No.” Neil let out a low, bitter laugh.

Andrew gave him a long look before twisting the key in the ignition. Neil didn’t have the heart to tell him he was going to have to ditch his Maserati.

* * *

“What the fuck is with you and empty parking lots?” Andrew asked as he pulled in. The dimly lit parking lot of Westborough High School wasn’t much different at night, though the lack of underpaid teachers and perpetually sweaty students was a plus in Neil’s book. 

“Finished my senior year here.” Neil shrugged and slipped out of the car, pushing up his sleeves as the brisk wind soothed his heated skin.

“What was it like?” Andrew asked, following suit. He leapt onto the hood, his Mcdonald’s bag and a pack of cigarettes fisted in each hand.

“Fluorescent,” Neil said, remembering the bright, tacky lighting.

Andrew snorted and pulled out his lighter.

Neil took it as invitation enough and joined him.

Andrew waited until Neil was settled on the hood to ask, “Why do you do it?”

It took Neil a minute to respond, mainly because he wasn’t sure what Andrew was referring to.

“The thrill of being young and alive,” he said wryly, though his comment was met with tired, unamused eyes.

“My sister,” Neil finally admitted. “She’s at this prestigious dance school. Works two jobs. Dan deserves a lot more than the world has to offer.” Neil shook his head, fuzzy despite the cool night air.

“Yeah, so does everyone. Get over it.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean I have to sit here and watch the world shit on her.”

Andrew hummed and blew out a steady stream of smoke.

The air held a bitter chill, but Neil was warm, soaking up the heat that escaped Andrew’s person. “Your turn,” Neil said, jumping up. “Tell me something. What are you thinking?”

“No.”

Andrew ashed his cigarette and dug into the bag. Pulling out a hash brown, he tore it two and held up a slender hand, offering the other half to Neil. He took it, catching the sight of bruised knuckles almost immediately. He wanted to ask who Andrew had fought, but for some reason, Neil knew it wasn’t a person.

“You’re not thinking of anything?” Neil said, licking his oil-stained fingers.

“No,” Andrew said, following Neil’s line of sight.

“Okay, what if I can guess what you’re thinking?” Neil’s voice had a slight teasing edge.

“You can’t.” 

“Well, I guess you’ll never find out,” Neil said offhandedly.

Andrew rolled his eyes. Neil wanted to make Andrew feel something, but didn’t know why.

Neil leaned forward, eyes bright with humor. “Put your forehead against mine.”

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew said, ignoring him in favor of puffing on his cigarette.

“Humor me,” Neil grinned.

Andrew narrowed his eyes, but obliged.

He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Neil took in a dizzying breath. Andrew smelled of cigarettes and hash browns and something fragrant, citrusy. Neil found himself wondering about Andrew.

Neil’s heart soared in his chest. He’d only ever felt like this when he was speeding in a car he had just boosted. It was wild, all bite as it clawed a home in his chest.

“What am I thinking?” Andrew whispered, his breath warm against Neil’s face, blowing away any coherent thought Neil had possessed. Neil forgot what he was supposed to be teasing Andrew about.

“You’re thinking—”

“Neil Abram Josten are you _fucking_ kidding me.”

Christ. He was so fucked.

* * *

“ _Shit_ _,_ ” Neil groaned before turning to face who Andrew could only assume was his sister, Dan.

She was a small woman, bundled in a large coat with brown curls piled high in a loose bun.

“I’ve called you like, twelve times.” Dan hissed, letting her anger saturate every word she said.

Andrew immediately disliked her. He wasn’t fond of people who so blatantly wore their rage. It had always meant bad things, in his experience.

“Did you?” Neil tried for nonchalance, but Andrew–who’s eyes had been glued to Neil’s mouth since the moment they had met—quickly recognized the twitch of his lips.

“Don’t start that bullshit with me, Neil. I’ve told you. I don’t care where you are or who you’re with, _just answer when I call you_.”

“My phone died.”

Dan rolled her eyes. “Maybe your ‘dog ate my homework’ excuse will work on—” Dan stopped, her eyes settling on Andrew as if seeing him for the first time. “Who are you?”

“None of your business,” Andrew replied smoothly. His fingers twitched, itching to pull his knives from his armbands.

“Alright, listen here—”

“Dan,” Neil said, “It’s fine. He’s cool.”

“Is he helping you lift? Because if he is you’d better be getting a decent cut, and—wait. You better not be stealing cars again!”

Andrew snorted.

“I’m not,” Neil said honestly. “Well, I couldn’t. Those new Lexus’ come with that new alarm system—”

Dan came up behind Neil and pulled him close. “You’re no good to me if you’re in jail, kiddo.” She placed her chin on top of his head. “You’ve got to let me take care of you.”

“I know,” came the muffled reply.

Andrew turned away, unable to identify the feeling that was grabbing his throat in a vise grip.

“Hold on, Dan. I left my phone in the front seat.”

Andrew frowned, thinking that he could’ve sworn he’d seen Neil’s phone in his back pocket while he had definitely checked out Neil’s ass. Though if anyone had asked he would’ve denied it.

Neil pulled the passenger door open and riffled through the seat, coming out a few moments later with his phone and a grin. “See ya.” He gave Andrew a two fingered salute.

Andrew nodded, not trusting his voice. Neil Josten was nothing but a pipe dream. He knew that. He had to know that.

Andrew didn’t get back in his car, even long after they left. Dan grouching at Neil the whole way. He couldn’t help but compare their interactions with his and his own brother’s. Dan might have been angry—and as much as Andrew hated her for her anger—she clearly loved Neil.

Andrew hopped back up on the hood of his car and watched as the sunlight dripped from the sky, colors seeping together, bright and delicate. Thinking about blue eyes and a slanted mouth.

Eventually, he managed to make it back into his car. It was only then, after tossing old napkins into his trash bag, that Andrew had noticed the receipt, folded deliberately in the middle of his passenger seat.

Andrew read the messy scrawl:

_What you were thinking: Next Tuesday. Walmart parking lot. Four AM._

_P.S. I’ll bring the hash browns. ;)_

Blue-eyed boy. A tangle of flame for hair. Andrew forgot how to breathe.

Andrew’s phone buzzed once, twice.

It was Renee. The first was a picture of Nicky sleeping on a futon that was stacked on a shelf at Walmart, cradling coffee filters.

_Missing something?_

Andrew thumbed out his reply. _Tell him to leave them. We’ll get filters next week._

He pulled out of the parking lot, sunlight spilling across his dash, slow as molasses. No one was on the road; nothing and everything felt real.

He was going to have to dump his car, but he was thinking about greasy hash browns and nails bitten down to the quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is incredibly frustrating. As I mentioned earlier, it took me a good 4 months to finish this.
> 
> Readers and Leavers are the bane of the writing community! Don’t be a Reader and Leaver! Love your fellow writer! Leave them only with feedback and lots of love! 
> 
> Thanks for those who support me! 
> 
> Bonus: I may or may not have snuck in a scene from The Office. Kudos to you if you can find it!


End file.
